


Detour (with Jigsaw Puzzles)

by HiroMyStory



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Reconciliation, Sharing a Bed, Trapped, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-09-27 12:45:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17162219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiroMyStory/pseuds/HiroMyStory
Summary: An accident leaves Chloe and Lucifer snowed in.





	1. Skid Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petrichorishly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrichorishly/gifts).



> I’m so excited to write this TheDeckerstarNetwork Naughty or Nice exchange fic for petrichorishly, who was so kind in welcoming me to Tumblr a month ago. I hope you like it! The prompt was blizzard, and I absolutely adore stuck-in-a-blizzard fics! It got long, so there will be two more chapters coming!
> 
> Thank you so much to ObliObla for the beta! Remaining mistakes are alllllllll mine.

When Chloe had made these plans, they’d seemed like such a good idea. It had been a difficult year. Nothing was as it had been. A change of scenery for the holidays seemed a perfect way not to dwell on the last months. 

She was taking a page from Dan, who was in Costa Rica for his cousin’s pre-Christmas beach wedding. As much as Dan had griped about the imposition, Chloe thought it was good for him to be surrounded by his extended family during this season, even if he wouldn’t celebrate with Trixie until the 29th.

So she’d asked her mom if she could have her cabin near Tahoe for the week. Five cozy days in the woods with Trixie had sounded perfect. Her plan had two major flaws, however. First, too much time to think, and, second, her mother.

It was this second flaw that had her running into Tahoe City on the afternoon of the 23rd. Her mom had promised to have the cabin opened up and stocked before they arrived. Chloe would have declined and done it herself except that her mother, who had shocked her by announcing that she would stay with them the entire week, had insisted.

She’d greeted them enthusiastically when they’d arrived last night. Chloe had been tired and crabby from the circles her thoughts had been traveling in all the long drive from L.A. She’d done her best to meet her mom’s typical cheer until she could retire to bed.

But the next morning she’d had a conniption when she’d seen the cabin was in no way stocked for a nine year old or for Christmas. There was wine and pasta; chocolates and store-bought brittle; yogurt and granola; a Christmas ham and fixings. But no milk or juice, no bread or cereal, no hot cocoa or ingredients for cookies or the ginger bread she and Trixie made together every year.

Her mom had insisted they could just have groceries delivered, if they needed. To a remote cabin. At Christmas. Even if it weren’t for the storm expected overnight, Chloe couldn’t imagine doing that. So, after lunch and a few hands of Uno, she’d settled Trixie in with her mom and set off on the forty-five minute drive into Tahoe City. 

More time in a car with her whirring brain. Joy.

It had hit her not long into yesterday’s drive that she was going to the cabin because she really had no reason to stay in L.A. with Dan away. Ella always went home to Detroit for the holidays. Her sort-of friendships with Maze and Linda were on hiatus still. And Lucifer, well, Lucifer.

It had been nearly six whole months since That Day. She couldn’t even call it the day she learned the truth. The day she believed the truth. Six months, and everything remained in an uncomfortable holding pattern.

They’d talked several times. He’d answered her questions with few enough evasions and more patience than she expected. Eventually, he’d returned to work. But a distance remained between them.

These days, he worked as much with Dan or even Ella in her lab, as he did with her. And she saw so much less of him: He generally didn’t come to the precinct unless he was expected, and he no longer dropped by her house. She didn’t drop by Lux, either.

She was honest with herself; this wasn’t what she wanted. But she just didn’t know how to bridge the distance between them. The more time had gone by, the harder it became.

She watched the easier interactions between Lucifer and Ella or Dan with envy. Ella he seemed to treat more like a little sister than anything else. And, Dan, well, it had been a long time since Lucifer had called him “douche”—perhaps since his kidnapping in the desert. Now, they seemed to have struck up an actual friendship of sorts, once they’d gotten past Dan’s anger at Lucifer’s lack of warning about Pierce. However that had happened. One day they were at odds and the next they weren’t.

In fact, Lucifer had paid for Dan’s flight to Costa Rica. She’d overheard them arguing about it, but Lucifer had insisted that he didn’t want to owe him and finally Dan had agreed. Chloe has no idea how or what Lucifer might owe Dan. And wasn’t that a thing, the two of them having their own hijinks that she knew nothing about. But then again, Dan didn’t Know.

She felt sometimes like she was looking in on her own life from the outside.

*****

Chloe let her car warm up while she loaded her groceries into the trunk. Big wet flakes had started to fall by the time she was done. She glanced at her phone. It was only 16:00. She’d checked her weather app before she left, and she should have plenty of time before the storm started in earnest tonight.

The car was comfortable when she got in, so she shucked her coat. She plugged her phone into the stereo and started her ‘90s playlist. She was determined to simply enjoy the drive back. No more dwelling.

The snow, in the late afternoon light, was quite beautiful as she left town. It fell over the rows of pine trees that lined the road. Beautiful, but she found herself slowing down a little as it began to accumulate along the road bed. She occasionally passed another car, but traffic was sparse. She flicked on her headlights. Still, she hummed along to Alanis Morissette.

Chloe found herself growing tenser and tenser, her hands clutching the wheel carefully. It happened gradually, but there was no denying she was in a storm now. Her car told her the air temperature had dropped below freezing, and the snow was accumulating quickly. There were hints of tracks in the snow from cars in front of her, and she kept her car inside them. Chloe was aware she had very little experience driving in the snow. She thought about turning back toward town, but she guessed she was more than half way to the cabin. She hit the button to turn off the stereo.

The road was winding along one of the smaller—but by no means small—lakes outside Tahoe. Dark houses dotted the swath of land between the road and the water periodically. Each appeared buttoned up for the winter.

Chloe’s windshield wipers were beating furiously to keep up with the snow. She heard the sound of the road change as she drove onto a raised causeway that passed over an area of marshes on the edge of the lake. The road was narrow here, and the guardrail low. Chloe’s heart was beating too fast, and she slowed even further.

Chloe breathed a sigh of relief as she reached the end of the causeway. But as soon as the road surface changed under her tires, she began to lose transaction. She gasped as she felt the moment of loss of control. Her back wheels were sliding to the right, and she began to spin to the left. She grabbed the wheel, yanking to try to correct herself.

It was a mistake, and her car went into a full spin. She whipped around, seeing the road’s edge approach. And she was turning again. The car made the little jump down off the road. As it did, she was thrown forward, her head hitting the steering wheel before she was thrown back again.

She remained in a spin heading down a slight embankment, the lake looming. The thought was sudden. She might die here.

Time seemed to slow. Her next thought was of Trixie. Of leaving her like Chloe’s father had once done. What were her last words to her? She’d never get to see her all grown up. Would never know who she became. Her mind raced through so many regrets.

Then one more loomed up. Lucifer. She’d never get to truly reconcile with him. She’d thought she had more time to process and come back to it. He’d tried to reach out, he had. But she’d kept him at arms length. Why had she kept him at arms length? _Lucifer, I’m sorry,_ she thought. Time sped up again, and she was whipped around once more, and the water was _right there._

She heard a sudden wrenching of metal. Confused, because she was still spinning. She hadn’t crashed and the air bag hadn’t deployed. Then her world was filled with blinding white. Arms wrapped around her waist, familiar. A hand at her hip, releasing her seatbelt. And she was being pulled out of the car. Except the car lurched, and they were both jerked back. She heard the scream of pain; not her own. Then they were rolling together down the embankment.

She came to rest with the side of her face pressed into the snow, a heavy weight over her. She could only watch as the car spun over the berm and into the lake.

She took in a deep breath and then another. Hardly noticing the cold snow against her skin. After the shock of the moment began to wear off, she tried to move the heavy, warm weight off of her. She heard a groan and recognized the voice. Bracing on her forearms, she pulled her way out from under him instead and rolled over.

Sitting on her butt in the snow, she took him in. Lucifer. Wings. And one of them—bent at a terrible, wrong angle. He looked at her, eyes dazed with pain.

A wracking shiver broke her out of the trance she hadn’t realized she’d fallen into. She’d process that he was somehow here, that he’d somehow saved her, later. Right now, neither of them was dressed for this storm, and he was hurt. Her head throbbed insistently. Maybe she was, too.

Chloe looked around trying to assess the situation. The sun had set by now and twilight was dwindling fast. The snowfall remained heavy, and she saw little else at first. The lake was mostly visible by the contrast of black water beyond the white. She knew the road was not far in the opposite direction, although she couldn’t make it out up the slope. She’d seen no headlights nor heard any cars.

She saw nothing but darkness along the lakeshore to her right. To the left, though… She squinted, shielding her eyes from the glare of the snow. There, a dark structure she could just make out. Relief swelled in Chloe’s chest, and she moved to kneel by Lucifer’s side. It was pure luck she had wrecked near one of the lake houses.

“Come on,” she said, trying to get an arm under his armpit on his good side.

He grunted as she heaved them both up. It was a slow, painful trek to the house. His breathing was heavy near her ear, and he struggled to match her pace even as she shortened it and shortened it again.

“Hang on,” she assured. “We’re nearly there.”

She thought she hear him mutter, “Promises, promises.” But, if so, the words were lost on a gasp such that she was hardly sure she’d heard them.

The house grew clearer as they approached. A large porch wrapped around the lake-side of it. A trail of long, shallow steps made of logs holding earth led up to the porch, where six or so proper steps awaited them. She stopped dead as she contemplated the obstacles, Lucifer hanging heavily along her side, his wings an awkwardness she struggled to accommodate.

She looked at him. His jaw was clenched, and he was pale.

“Ready?” she asked.

He turned to her and gave a short, sharp nod before taking a first step forward.

She helped bear his weight as best she could as they made their unsteady way. She startled as her nearly-numb fingers slipped into soft feathers. His breath hitched at the sudden shift in her support. _Pull it together, Decker,_ she told herself. _Worry about it later._ To her relief, they didn’t go down and made it to the porch. The steps up to the door were the hardest part, however, slick and steep. They stopped to rest after nearly every one. She was hearing little wheezes of pain with each movement now.

They staggered forward to the door. It was locked, of course. She looked for somewhere to put him down, so she could maybe kick it in. But he reached out and laid his hand on the wood near the handle. She heard the lock click, loud in the snowy silence. Her heart was already beating way too fast from the exertion. If it jumped again, how was she to tell?

It was very dark inside, but she made out a couch in the meager light pouring through the door. She walked him to it and eased him down. His continued silence told her all was not well.

She looked back to the door, and spotted a battery-lantern on a credenza by the entrance. At least the owners were practical. She flipped it on, and white-blue light filled the room.

He looked pale and pained in the sudden light, but his breathing was becoming steadier. She closed the door, and made her way to his side.

“How?” she asked.

“I heard you pray.”

“Is that…” Is that what she did? “Hold on. Let me get the power on.” She needed the distraction.

Chloe had opened up her mom’s cabin enough times before. She found the circuit box in the utility room off the kitchen. She flipped each breaker, blinking at the sudden brightness as the lights flickered on.

Next, she opened the tap in the utility sink and turned on the main water valve. Chloe sighed in relief when water came gushing out of the tap. She lit the pilot light on the water heater with the gas lighter sitting on the work table in the utility room. Again, practical. The furnace, she discovered, was already lit.

When she found the light switch in the great room, several table lamps with cut-out animal shades brightened. Cozy but dim.

Lucifer looked up at her as she returned but otherwise hadn’t moved.

“Almost done,” she murmured.

Her guess that the thermostat would be on the great room wall opposite the utility room paid off. It was set at 40 degrees. She bumped it up to its max. Even though she knew that wouldn’t heat the place any faster, it made her feel better.

She spotted a phone on a side table. There was no dial tone when she picked it up. She thought about her mobile, plugged into the car, now at the bottom of the lake.

“Do you have your phone?” she asked Lucifer.

He snorted, but it was pained. “Didn’t have it on me, when…”

His teeth clenched on the words. If anything, he’d become even paler.

“What can I do?”

He shook his head. Chloe didn’t take it as an answer so much as a gesture of frustration.

“Would it help to splint it?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” he ground out.

“Hang tight,” she told him as she went looking for supplies. 

In addition to the great room, the lake house consisted of a bedroom, a bathroom, and the kitchen. She opened various closets and cupboard looking for what might be useful.

When she returned, she laid out her finds on the long coffee table in front of Lucifer. She had: an old sheets, thin from washing, and a pile of towels. A broom handle, a feather duster with the duster head removed, and a wooden ruler with the name a hardware store stamped on it. And one bottle each of hydrogen peroxide and vodka.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “All that, Detective? Fancy some arts-and-crafts?”

Her laugh ran high with her nerves now that she’d run out of tasks to distract herself.

“Here.” She handed him the vodka.

He drank it steadily as she tore the sheet into strips.

“Okay,” she said more to herself than him. Then: “You ready?”

He gave her a strained half-smile. “As I’ll ever be.”

She made her way behind him, but she hesitated to touch his wing even though she had outside. She had the sudden memory of reaching out to touch his scars, way back in the early days of their partnership.

“It’s okay, Detective.”

“I’m going to…I’m going to look at the good wing first. For reference.”

She gingerly reached out to touch the feathers along the leading edge. They’d barely brushed her fingers, when she pulled back. Her heart was beating way too fast for this.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to do this, Detective.” To Chloe’s ear, there was a forced lightness to his tone.

“I’m good.”

This time, she laid her hand gently but firmly around feather and bone. The softness tickled her palm. Closing her hand, she let her fingers dig into the feathers. They were warm in a way a bird’s would not be. It was a warmth that brought home that the wings were truly a part of him and not some feathery prosthetic. 

Taking a deep breath, she brought her other hand up to experiment with moving the feathers. She manipulated them this way and that, trying to see and feel beneath them. There was something almost mesmerizing about handling them.

It was strange, almost too strange. But she had a task that needed doing.

She tightened her grip. It was no clearer than trying to determine her anatomy by clutching at her own forearm, but she suspected there were two bones much like a radius and ulna.

“Okay,” she said as she shifted to the injured side. “Ready?”

“Golden,” he said tightly, and she took a deep breath.

Every touch was bad. Really bad. The flesh beneath the feathers was hot and red. It was a closed fracture, at least. But from the degree of the angle in what should be a smooth line, she suspected it was a complete break across both bones. Things seemed…loose inside.

She knew from her first-aid courses that, if he was human, she should not try to realign the bones herself. But he was not. And it was not like they were going to seek medical attention later.

“The break’s pretty bad. Should I reset it?”

Lucifer did not answer at first. “Believe it or not, I don’t have terribly more experience with broken wings than you do. But, yes. I do think that will help the healing along.”

“It’s going to hurt,” she warned him. _Duh, Decker._

It wasn’t as simple as she’d pictured in her head. For starters, the wing beyond the break was both bulky and heavy. It wasn’t at all easy to manipulate. She had him grunting in pain before she decided she needed to revise her strategy.

“Hold on.”

She came around the frontside of the couch again. Gently pushing long feathers out of the way, she knelt by his side. She positioned both her hands, spaced wide, to the outside of the break before digging her fingers into the feathers below the leading edge. She braced, and then hefted the entire wing up, using the couch-back to support it.

He cried out, one hand clutching her shirt as he buried his head into her side. She held the wing in place until his chest stopped heaving. Then she reached with one hand to grab the broom handle—it was too long to be an effective splint anyway—and wedged it, upright, into the corner of the couch, hoping it would help keep him in place. 

She tentatively let go and to her great relief his wing stayed laid out along the couch back. He pulled his head back and let her go, looking sheepish.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she reassured.

This time she took the make-shift supplies behind the couch with her to have at the ready.

She began threading the fabric strips through the wings to tie the splints in place when the time came. It didn’t seem to cause him any particular discomfort on top of the pain he already was in.

“This alright?” 

“Yes, Detective.”

She nodded to herself and finished her prep work, trying not to think about what she’d have to do next.

“Okay, now for the hard part,” she warned.

He nodded, and she placed a hand to the inside of the break, intending to hold the wing steady. The angle wasn’t quite right.

“Can you slouch down a little?”

He complied.

“Perfect.”

Taking a deep breath, she began manipulating the outside part of the wing. Trying to block out the sound of his pain. Just get the job done. 

She probed the area as gently as she could after each small movement. Finally, she was satisfied she had the bones aligned as well as she could manage. She was very much hoping it was close enough for his natural healing to take over. It would have to be. 

She positioned the splints and began pulling the fabric strips up to tie them in place, one by one. Feathers bent and broke. She winced. It couldn’t be helped.

Lucifer’s hands were clutching the couch, and he was breathing roughly. The kind of deliberate exhalations one made when trying to bear great pain.

When she was done, she sat on the coffee table in front of him until he regained himself. 

“Thank you,” she said. She wasn’t sure if she was thanking him for letting her bind the wing or for saving her in the first place.

He didn’t respond, and she took it that he was in too much pain. But after a few moments, he lifted a hand and brushed it against her forehead. It hurt, and his hand came away with blood smudged on his thumb. She reached up and touched her head. It was a solid gash. 

“I’m okay,” she assured.

She reached out to prop his feet up on the coffee table. She wished she could lay him down, but the wings were too much of an obstacle and she certainly wasn't going to take the injured one off the couch back. 

Still, she wanted to make him more comfortable. Looking around, she spotted a quilt laying over the back of a nearby armchair. Before she covered him with it, she leaned over him and undid his waistcoat and the top buttons of his shirt. He didn’t comment. He didn’t even smirk.

Abruptly, she remembered one of their talks, months ago, after That Day.

“Would it be better if I go? I could walk a little away, stay for a little while.”

He seemed to gather himself, focusing on her. 

“Perhaps, but you can’t go out into a blizzard with a concussion.” He took several more swigs from the Vodka. “I’ll make do.”

She touched her forehead gingerly again. 

“You don’t have any Devil-y healing powers, do you?”

That finally earned her the ghost of a smile. “Not for ordinary human injuries, no.”

The cabin remained cold, even though the furnace had been running without break for over an hour now. She eyed the wall of glass facing the lake. This was a summer house. There was a fireplace, though. Probably quite cozy for the cool nights at this elevation.

She touched Lucifer’s knee, gaining his attention again.

“I’m going to go out to look for firewood.”

He nodded but remained silent.

Cursing her lost coat, she searched the closets, only managing to find a light jacket and a knit hat and gloves. They would have to do. At least the moon had risen. It was almost light out as it reflected on the snow.

She circumnavigated the house, finally finding wood stacked not too terribly far from the kitchen door. A wave of dizziness swept over her as she carried the first armful inside. She leaned in the door frame until it passed. Too much exertion.

Smaller armfuls, then. She knew she was losing them precious heat, but she was struggling and it was easier just to leave the kitchen door open as she made her trips. She continued until she was satisfied with the size of the stack of wood on the kitchen floor. Enough for the night, at least. 

Shivering and more than a little nauseated, she checked on Lucifer and used the moment to rest a bit before she set out to make the fire. She found some old magazines and rolled up a few pages for kindling. Soon enough, she had a good fire started. The room became substantially more comfortable almost immediately.

She sat on the floor, leaning against the couch next to Lucifer’s legs, getting toasty. He’d been silent through out her work. She glanced out the windows. The snowfall seemed to have stopped for now.

She gauged Lucifer. He didn’t look much better. She didn’t think he was ‘making do.’ In fact, taking in his dilated pupils and his ashy, clammy skin, she was worried he was going into shock. She laid a hand on the leg next to her, squeezing gently until he made a sound that told her she had his attention.

“Listen, the snow has tapered off. How far would I need to go for you to heal?”

“You are not passing out from a concussion and freezing to death.”

“How far, Lucifer?”

“Maybe an eighth of a mile?” 

She nodded, and wished she hadn’t. 

She made her third search of the house for the night. She found an old Casio digital watch in the bedroom. The battery was good. She gathered several throw blankets.

She sat down across from Lucifer once again. The nausea was concerning, but she would manage it. She waived the wristwatch in front of him, and it took a moment to get his attention. 

“I’m going to walk down the driveway, at least an eighth of a mile. I’ll set an alarm on this for fifteen minutes, and the microwave timer for twenty minutes.” Before he could object, she added: “I’m sure you’ll come find me if I’m not back. Just down the driveway for a few minutes. Got it?”

She didn’t wait for an objection. Instead, she wrapped herself in as many of the blankets as she could carry and set the watch alarm and the timer on the microwave.

His eyes followed her the whole time, but he remained silent.

“See you in a few,” she promised as she headed out.

There was an old split-rail fence at the bottom of the driveway. She judged it far enough away. The post was cold when she leaned against it, but she was grateful for the support.

She gathered up a handful of snow and pressed it to the raised gash on her forehead. It felt good. Very good. Although she knew she probably wasn’t dong herself any favors staying warm.

She thought about Lucifer back at the cabin, too-silent and hurt. She’d called to him, even if she hadn’t realized, and he’d come running without hesitation. He’d come. He’d saved her. Even after all these months of her distance.

She’d been unfair to him. She knew it. Neither letting him go, nor welcoming him back. Even she didn’t know why.

On all those occasions she’d gone to talk to him after That Day, he’d made time for her, whatever he was been doing. They’d talked, cumulatively, for many hours. Each time, when she’d had enough, he let her go without complaint. She needed the distance, then, and for their interactions to be on her terms. He’d obliged.

When he’d finally asked her if it was okay for him to come back to work, she’d said yes. And she’d meant it. She’d had plenty of time to think about all that he was and realize that she knew who he was. She could’ve told him no, that she didn’t want him in her life, and he would’ve honored her wishes. But it _wasn’t_ what she wanted; she wanted to get back to normal. She should have welcomed him back then, when she didn’t need the separation anymore. 

So why, _why,_ had she kept him at arm’s length? For reasons she didn’t understand, it was just so hard to reach out. Much easier to let things be. Surely, they would get back on track in time. But days had become weeks had become months… 

The muffled silence made her ears ring. Just the occasional whisper of the pine trees when a little breeze broke the stillness of the night. She breathed in and out, watching her breath puff in front of her. She blinked.

She would fix this. 

They’d get through this storm. They’d flag down help once the roads were passable. She’d invite him to her mom’s. They’d have Christmas dinner. A vision of them all seated around the table at the cabin danced in front of her eyes. She shivered, her teeth clattering.

Christmas. She wondered how he felt about Christmas. He’d been scarce at this time of year in the past. Or else she’d just been busy. Flakes had started to gather on her eyelashes. When had it started snowing again? 

She’d lost the thread of her thoughts. 

Christmas dinner…

The watch alarm brought her back to herself with a start. Was it time already?

The driveway seemed longer on the way back and she struggled under the blankets she wore in lieu of a coat. Pausing to catch her breath, she looked back at her footprints. They wove left and right, and she hadn’t even noticed she wasn’t walking in a straight line.

That scared her, and her heart pounding as she closed in on the kitchen door. The door flew open with a bang against the wall, yellow light pouring out. And there was Lucifer in the doorway looking wild.

She saw when he spotted her, his relief visible as tension slid from the lines of his body although the injured wing remained stiff and unmoving. Before she could react, he was dragging her back into the house.

“Come on, Detective, let’s get you warm.”

She wanted to reassure him she was okay, but her teeth were chattering so badly she could only clench them together.

Holding her on his good side, he guided her to the couch. She was quite possibly shaking harder than she had been outside.

He sat her down and pulled off her cold boots. After he removed her wet gloves, he began rubbing her hands between his to thaw them.

When her shivering had subsided a bit, he held a finger in front of her eyes and asked her to follow it. After she did so, he took her chin in his, tilting her head this way and that while he looked at her eyes.

“What’s today’s date?”

She wanted to roll her eye, but this was…probably a good idea.

“December 23. How do you know to…?”

“I know things.” He sounded slightly offended, which she hoped meant he was doing better. “Where are you?”

“Near Tahoe. If you can answer that question any better than I can, feel free.”

“Fair enough.” He seemed satisfied with her cognitive functioning. “One last thing and sorry,” he said before pinching the skin on the back of her hand.

“Ouch,” she protested. Her glare was ruined when she shuddered violently.

“Here,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and rubbing her own arm.

She sighed and settled against him. He was warm and he was safe and it had been so long since they’d been close.

They stayed like that for quite some time, his hand on her arm slowing to a lazy pace as she stopped shivering. She didn’t realize she’d started to doze until she jerked up when her head started to fall forward. She felt Lucifer chuckle against her. She was about to give his leg a little pinch in retaliation when she realized his uninjured wing was wrapped loosely around her.

Her breath caught a bit. No wonder she was feeling so cozy and… She thought it should feel stranger than it did but decided she didn’t want to think too much about it.

Suddenly, she remembered that _he_ was the one who was hurt worse. She sat up abruptly.

“Hey, are you doing any better?”

“A bit, thank you.”

His color had improved at least.

Regretfully, she shrugged out from under his arm and went to examine his injured wing. It was not good, but it _was_ improved. It seemed much more stable. Yet, the area of the break was swollen and red when she gently pushed the feathers aside. It was much hotter than the surrounding wing. His hiss of pain when she gently probed the area also told her much.

“Maybe I should go out again, in a bit,” she murmured. 

“No, detective.” Emphatic.

He was right. She was not up for it, and the snow was falling hard again out the windows.

“I need you to take this splint off. Trust me.”

Reluctantly, she did as he asked. 

He stood up from the couch, and she watched as he drew his wings inward. Then they disappeared with a grunt of pain from him. He paled and swayed a bit. 

That broke her out of her gaping, and she rushed to support him. She grasped his upper arm with one hand, while her other hand wrapped around his wrist. She held him steady while he recovered himself.

They stared at each other. There was so much she wanted to say all of a sudden. Six months of words. But she couldn’t find them, and he pulled away, moving past her into the kitchen.

When he returned, it was with a bottle of gin he was already pulling from.

“Will they…heal…when they’re…when they’re…” She got stuck and found herself gesturing in his general direction. “Wherever they are.”

He grimaced. “They’ll keep healing.” He looked away and took another slug from the bottle.

The wind was howling outside the wall of windows that undoubtedly provided a splendid view on better days but provided insufficient insulation just now. The little furnace had no hope of keeping up. She fed the fire and gathered all the blankets she could find.

Lucifer watched her moving about. These last few hours were some of the quietest they’d ever spent together, and she did not like it. 

They were likely going to have to ride out this storm. It should be over by tomorrow afternoon or evening, if the forecast held true. She just hoped her mom assumed she took shelter in town.

She bade him stand up and began to investigate the couch. To her relief it was a sleeper sofa. The bedroom had been freezing when she’d gone searching for blankets. She got his help moving the coffee table and pushing the couch closer to the fire before folding it out.

It was already made up, so she set to layering the blankets over it. When she was done, she sat down on one side.

Still he just watched.

“Well, come on,” she said. 

He winced. “This is ridiculous. Like something out of a bad novel.”

“We aren’t having sex, if that’s what you are thinking about,” she told him, trying for and missing a teasing note. She sighed. “We could both do with some sleep.”

He acquiesced, grumbling. Once he was sitting on the opposite edge of the bed, he reached over and took the digital watch off her wrist. He set the alarm for one hour as they both dipped under opposite ends of the covers.

Chloe turned to lay with her back to him out of awkwardness more than anything else. She was very aware of him, just on the other side of her, but she was also feeling the sea of space between them. It was strange that she should feel it all the more intensely now when they were a mere three feet apart. She lay self-consciously still and sleep was elusive. She wished she could recapture that moment of dozing under his wing.

She had barely started to nod off when the watch alarm started its beeping. She blinked her eyes open reluctantly. At some point, she’d turned to face him, and she saw that he was facing her as well.

“Sit up, just for a minute.”

She complied.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two,” she said, batting them away.

“Okay. How old are you?”

“Rude. Thirty-eight.”

“A baby. Repeat after me: Lucifer is the most handsome civilian consultant I’ve ever had.”

She punched his arm lightly, mindful of his now-unseen injury.

He raised an eyebrow. “That settles it. You’re functioning just fine.” He set the alarm for another hour. “Try to get some more sleep.”

She nodded but went to put more logs on the fire first. When she crawled back into the bed, she saw Lucifer had already fallen asleep. He was laying facing her on his uninjured side. Did it matter with his wings…put away?

It was strange watching his face in sleep. He wasn’t precisely relaxed; she could see the pain drawing in his features. But he did look oddly peaceful without his outsized personality animating his face. She almost reached out to trace the line of his cheek. Her fingers twitched with suppressed urge.

When the alarm woke her again, she found herself curled up closer to him. He ran through another check of her cognitive function, and she fed the fire again. They groggily repeated the same routine twice more before he decided they could just sleep.

After they’d settled back in the last time, she took a deep breath and brought his arm around her as she snuggled into his side. He was warm and she was tired and they could worry about what any of it meant tomorrow.


	2. Puzzles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Eve trapped in the lake house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes some smut which is, well, smutty. If that's not your thing, please skip to the next section break when you get there. The promised (albeit now belated) holiday fluff will pick up in the next chapter. Once again, thank you so much to ObliObla for the beta! p.s. petrichorishly, I hope I got a 6 on a scale of 1-7 right for you. ;)

When Chloe finally blinked awake, it was to a bright glare falling across her vision. She was alone under the covers. In the daylight, she could finally take in all the glass of this house. It was bright out even though the snow was falling.

Her stomach growled. She definitely smelled food. Pushing her way out from under the covers, she padded her way into the kitchen.

Lucifer’s back was to her while he worked at the stove. Whatever he was doing, he was concentrating as he tilted a pan this way and that. She looked over his shoulder and watched as he folded the omelet into form expertly.

“Powdered eggs,” Lucifer apologized. He flipped the omelet onto a plate and turned to face her.

He was wearing a chef’s apron that said ‘Brooke’s Kitchen’ in pink cursive across the chest. His hair was mussed and flattened on one side. He was, frankly, looking adorable, despite his pallor and the stiffness in his usually-graceful stance.

She took the plate to the formica kitchen table. It was all she could do to wait until he joined her with a second omelet before she dug in. They might be powdered eggs, but, in that moment, they were one of the most delicious things Chloe had ever tasted.

Once they finished cleaning up breakfast, Lucifer flopped into one of the armchairs. He was pale again, and Chloe realized he wasn’t doing as well as he was pretending. She glanced out the window. The snow wasn’t coming down too hard, and she was feeling better.

He didn’t even argue, which she took as a testament to how bad he was feeling, when she bundled up and set the alarms on the microwave and watch. The tromp to the end of the driveway was uneventful. Yet, despite it being daytime, it was much colder than it had been the night before and the snow was nearly knee deep. Severely chilled, Chloe decided to return to the house before the watch alarm even sounded. But she assumed every bit of extra healing time helped.

She went straight to the fire to warm herself. Lucifer was still stretched out in the armchair where she’d left him. His head was tipped back. She thought maybe he’d fallen asleep, but he turned to look at her when she approached.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Better still, but I won’t be flying either of us out here, I’m afraid.”

The idea jolted Chloe. She hadn’t even been thinking of that as a possibility.

Lucifer fidgeted, seeming to regret bringing it up. It was only 9 a.m., and it was going to be a long day if they walked on eggshells.

She decided to explore the house once again. In an end-table cabinet she found playing cards and jigsaw puzzles, which she pulled out. What she assumed was a credenza turned out to be an old radio cabinet. When she plugged it in, jazz spilled out of the speakers. She played with the dials but couldn’t find any other stations, tucked in the mountains as they were. Jazz it was. She turned it up.

In a crawl space she found several strings of white Christmas lights. While she assumed they weren’t actually for Christmas but perhaps for decorating the deck or a beach pavilion, they were perfect for today. Lucifer made a sour face when she enlisted his aid in decorating the room. But she was used to that by now, and, of course, he helped.

If they were going to spend Christmas Eve here, it might as well look festive. It wasn’t like they had anything else to do. And doing _something_ made the silence between them less awkward.

The music wound to an end, and a DJ provided news and weather. They learned the region was under a snow emergency. Roads were closed, and the public was advised to stay off of them if at all possible. The storm was expected to taper off beginning around 4 p.m., and the County was promising to deploy snow plows to non-emergency routes as soon as it did. She stifled a yawn.

Chloe set up a card table.

“Ever done a jigsaw puzzle?”

“Um. No.” The way he said it, she might as well have asked him if he’d ever tried to teach a bear to play canasta.

“Well, come help me with one of these.”

Chloe emptied the box of puzzle pieces onto the table and started turning the pieces right side up. She wasn’t sure he was going to join her, but eventually he wandered over.

“What is the point of this?”

“To pass time? They probably have these here for rainy days at the lake. Come on; it will be fun.”

He raised a dubious eyebrow.

“Just sit,” she said. She wedged the bottom of the box into the lid to stand it up for reference. “It should look like this when we’re done.”

He examined the mountain scene. “5000 pieces,” Lucifer read. “This will take bloody forever.” Despite his grumbling, he sat.

Chloe hid her smile. “It’s best to start with the edges. And let me know if you find any corners.”

She began pulling edge pieces to the side, and he mimicked her.

“So you’ve really never done a jigsaw puzzle?”

“No, but I have been to the Swiss alps.” He nodded at the picture on the box top.

“Really?” She hadn’t even known that’s what she was looking at. “Somehow I have trouble picturing you skiing or hiking.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Hardly. I much more enjoyed the liquor and the company inside the chalets.”

“Now that sounds more like you.” She snapped four pieces of mountainside together.

“Nothing wrong with enjoying the pleasures in life, Detective. You should give it a try more often.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but he stopped her retort by presenting her with a corner piece.

“Beautiful views, though,” he conceded. “Definitely worth a helicopter tour if you have a chance.”

She gaped at him. Somehow, he could say things like that in all seriousness. “Sure. I’ll keep that in mind.”

They fell into a rhythm of chat and puzzle. He was little help with the pieces, but she had missed easy banter with him. She swatted his hand away yet again when he reached over to try to fit an unlikely piece into the growing stretch of edge she had going.

“Why don’t you look for edge pieces that match the color of the sky on the right side,” she suggested.

“I’m surprised this didn’t come up as a torture in Hell,” he muttered.

She handed him two pieces with the color he was looking for. “Believe it or not, many people enjoy this.”

“Boring people.”

“It’s therapeutic,” she defended.

“What if all the pieces aren’t here?”

“Maybe they aren’t. But don’t get too hung up on that. Just move on to the next piece.”

He was quiet again as he worked on the little bit of sky she’d suggested, his long fingers pulling the pieces he wanted from the general jumble.

“I hope you aren’t missing anything terribly important in L.A.” She finished the bottom edge.

“Not at all, Detective. It’s a slow time of year until after the 25th.”

“So, not big on Christmas, I’m guessing?”

“You’d think that, but there are bits I can get behind. The overindulgence. The sexy Mrs. Claus costumes.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you have one of your theme nights at Lux?”

“Oh, we do!”

“I can imagine,” she said, concentrating on connecting the bottom edge and the left side of the puzzle.

“You missed the Bad Santa party already, but on the 29th we’re having a Twelve Naughty Days of Christmas party. The costumes we’ve gotten for each day are brilliant. I’m particularly fond of the sexy milk maids.”

Chloe could only imagine. “Okay, I get the milk maids, the dancing ladies, and even the leaping lords. And pipers and drummers. But what about all those birds?”

“Oh, come now, Detective! Feathered tails have been a staple of showgirl costumes since the very beginning…”

Chloe burst out laughing at how genuinely offended he sounded that that wasn’t obvious to her. “It sounds very…Lux.”

He grinned. “You should stop by and see it.”

She was about to say she’d take him up on it, when she saw his smile freeze and then slide away.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said. “I forgot for a minute. Never mind I said anything.”

“Forgot? Forgot what?”

“That we’re just partners now.”

“Lucifer…”

“No. You don’t have to say anything. I’m glad you still want to be partners after, well, after everything.” He sounded so dreadfully earnest. “I understand, you know, and you don’t have to worry about me forgetting again. It’s just being stuck here. Put me a bit off center. Now, have you any more of these sky-colored pieces?”

Her breath caught in her throat. _That’s_ what she’d made him think?

She didn’t say anything for a long time, stuck on how much it just _hurt_. Of course, he took her silence the wrong way and got up. There weren’t many places to go, but he plopped down on a love seat set up with a view out over the lake. The farthest place in the room from her.

Chloe gave him a minute before going to sit next to him. He continued to look out at the lake until she turned and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Lucifer, listen. I needed some time to adjust, yes, and I’m really not very good at this. But I never wanted us to be just partners.” She took his hand with her free hand and saw his eyes fall there. “You’re an important part of my life—no matter what.”

He didn’t say anything, but he squeezed back when she gave his hand a little squeeze. He looked rather adorably bewildered, and his curling, mussed hair added to the effect. Her hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his neck. When he didn’t react, she let her fingers begin stroking through the short curls there.

That, he did react to, turning to face her, pulling one leg up onto the cushion. It put a space between them, which she didn’t think was accidental. Her hand, dislodged, fell to the couch back.

“I don’t understand what’s happening here.” He had that look that she’d seen many times when human behavior seemed to completely perplex him.

“I-I think I want to get back to how things were _before_.”

She saw his wary expression and guessed at his concern.

“I don’t mean I want to go back to not knowing. I mean I want _us_ to go back to the way we were before.”

He looked confused.

“I’m _glad_ I know. Lucifer, I am.”

Now he looked outright dubious.

“Look, we couldn’t really move forward if I didn’t know. Believe.”

“You…move forward?”

“I-I—” She’d snuck up on herself there.

She reached out to put a hand on his knee and squeezed. The knee that kept her from scooting closer.

“Yeah, move forward.”

Suddenly, she was consumed with want…desire. Not sexual desire, specifically. But a want to have this man in her life, in her home, in her heart…and, yes, in her bed. It was a feeling that rose up from her heart but then swamped all of her.

Lucifer chose that moment to stand, and Chloe grabbed his arm, following him to her feet. They were very close again. He was looking down at her as if she was the puzzle.

“How can you…? I-I don’t understand you.”She could tell he wanted to run away—only to process what she’d said, she hoped—but there was nowhere to go. He turned away to pace the room. “This house is too bloody small,” he griped.

She’d give him the space and save them the awkwardness. She grabbed the jacket and hat and gloves from where she’d left them drying by the fire. Once she’d yanked them on and shrugged her pile of blankets over her shoulders, she headed straight out the door.

The snow was past her knees now and coming down harder than the other times she’d been out. She couldn’t really see the driveway but made her best guess based on her prior trips.

She was still running on frustration when she reached a raised line of snow she took to be the split-rail fence. Frustration with herself and with Lucifer. She didn’t really have any excuses for her prior inertia—didn’t even understand it herself. And him, well, sometimes he was so damn elusive.

She rubbed her numbing hands together. Shit, it was much colder than earlier. She glanced at her watch. Not only had she forgotten to set the alarm, the cold seemed to have zapped the battery. The screen was blank.

Better get back. When she looked up, she saw the snow was coming down fast in heavy white flakes. Luckily she knew the direction the house lay.

One step and she realized she couldn’t really feel her feet in boots designed more for fashion than warmth. Stupid to get lost in thought like that. She hurried as much as she could in snow this deep, but every step was a workout.

Something under the snow caught the toe her right boot, and she was falling in silent slow motion head first into the snow. It was _so_ cold on her bare face.

After a moment of disorientation, she got her hands under herself and pushed up. It was extremely awkward in the deep snow with the pile of blankets. When she got to her feet, she no longer had any idea where the house was.

 _Damn it, Decker_ , she thought to herself. Underestimating the weather again.

When she tried to pull the blankets more tightly around herself, she realized she couldn’t feel her fingers in the now-sodden gloves. And, as much as she squinted into the heavy snow, she couldn’t make out anything to orient her.

That’s when she started to panic. Her heart was already thudding from the exertion, and it was all she could hear. She thought about Lucifer’s words from the night before. That she’d prayed.

So she tried again.

She pictured him as she’d left him in the house. _Lucifer_ , she willed him to hear, _I need you_. And waited. Afraid if she moved she would go in the wrong direction.

Then he was there, appearing out of the whiteout. Fighting towards her through the drifts despite that he was in shirt sleeves and dress shoes. He scooped her up with that ridiculous strength of his, and she felt overwhelming relief.

Once they were back in the house, he sat her on the end of the foldout closest to the fire. He pulled off her wet boots and socks while she shrugged out of the jacket and yanked off the wet gloves. It was reminiscent of the night before, but she was so, so much colder. She stuck her hands under her armpits while he messaged her feet. The heat of the fire felt almost too strong on them.

Next, he helped her out of the wet jeans that clung to her skin. Her legs were bright red and stinging underneath. He rubbed them, briefly, too, looking into the fire rather than at her.

“Is it your head? Did you get dizzy?”

“Really, I’m fine. It was just colder than I thought, and I tripped and fell and got lost.” Her attempted nonchalance was lost through chattering teeth. “I’m sorry. That was really stupid.”

He sighed. “Enough of this, Detective. I’m well enough now, and we can deal with getting out of here tomorrow.” He added more quietly, as if to himself: “I think you can bear my company until then.”

He stood, and she caught his hand before he walked away. When he met her eyes, she said, “That’s not…that’s not why I went out.”

He nodded sharply, and said: “I’m going to see if I can find some dry clothes.”

She sighed, watching his back retreat into the bedroom. After a few minutes of warming her legs by the fire, she heard him returning.

When she looked up, she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled to her lips when she saw him. He was wearing kitty-print sweatpants that were nearly a foot too short and a t-shirt with a trio of corgis on the front. He cracked a smile in return, and then they were both laughing.

“Alright, alright,” he said sitting next to her, still smiling. “It wasn’t like there were a lot of choices. Besides, these aren’t exactly the mutt’s nuts, either.” He held out a pair of elastic-waist khaki women’s dress pants. Chloe began to suspect the owner of the house was at least in her 70s. He also had two pairs of socks.

They sat side by side pulling on the socks. Lucifer reached over to help her when she’d only gotten one on because her hands were still numb and shaking when she shivered. He helped her pull on the pants, as well. It was a testament to her comfort with him that she wasn’t at all embarrassed to accept the help.

He helped her under the covers after that and slipped in right after her. She was grateful for the warmth of his arms around her as he held her tight through her tremors. His hands found and wrapped around hers, warming them and comforting her.

They lay like that together—quiet and neither talking—as her shaking subsided. She tipped her head back to look at him. There was a look of such longing on his face, momentarily unguarded.

“Lucifer…” She wanted to tell him it was alright. He was allowed to want. Allowed to _have_. But she didn’t want to send him running, so instead she just said, “Thank you for being here.”

She felt his chest vibrate behind her as he hummed in response, but he didn’t otherwise answer. But she thought he did hold her closer.

* * *

 

Chloe woke up curled quite intimately around Lucifer’s side. One arm was thrown across his waist and a leg was curled over his hip. Her head rested on his chest.

She could tell he was awake, too, by how he was holding her shoulder where his arm wrapped around her. Despite his proclaimed confusion earlier, he didn’t seem to be bothered by how she was laying.

Her fingers at his waist met bare skin where his shirt had ridden up. She slipped her hand under the fabric, flattening her palm against his abs. She both heard and felt his intake of breath. Very deliberately, she ran her hand up his chest as she rolled so they were face-to-face.

This was a language she knew he understood. Even if it had never been theirs.

“Darling…” he started, but she pressed her lips to his, cutting him off.

His little noise of surprise was adorable. His lips parted and she took the opportunity to kiss the lower one more thoroughly. She let her fingers play lightly on his cheek, her thumb tracing along his jaw.

This was going to become awkward if he didn’t…but he did, one arm wrapping around her waist and the other coming up to cradle her head. His mouth began to move against hers. Then his tongue darted out, playing along the lower edge of her upper lip.

She opened under his little flicks along her lips and felt his tongue slide alongside hers into her mouth. Her fingers slid from his cheek into the hair at the back of his neck. She pulled gently, tilting his head to give them a better angle. Their tongues trailed against one another and soon the heat from the kiss was searing through her veins. She was lit up with wild desire for more of him.

He met her desire, pushing up into the kiss. His hand in her hair tightening—at last—from that tentative way he usually touched her as he pulled her more firmly against his lips. When his tongue dragged across the roof of her mouth, it set off flutters in her stomach and below. She moaned, clutching at him, one hand still in his hair and the other gripping at his shoulder under the t-shirt. She needed…just needed.

The hiked-up fabric of the tee was an annoying obstacle. Nonetheless she pulled herself more firmly against him until she was pressed entire along his lanky form. She’d thought quite a bit about how his toned body would feel against hers since he’d first shown it off to her. Little dreams and fantasies over the years. So she could hardly be blamed for the way she pressed her pelvis against his lower abs now, could she? She groaned into his mouth with each little pulse of her hips against him. Her desire was a burning thing inside her.

But Lucifer pulled back a little, softening the kiss, until he was barely brushing his lips against hers. She let him slow the pace and stilled against him. Panting, she regained some control.

They kissed like that for a little while, but she want this to stop. All the time they’d almost, _almost_ , been something more…she didn’t want this to be one, too.

And so she sat up, straddling him, and pulled her sweater over her head. She watched as his eyes slid from her face to her breasts. He didn’t seem to mind her utilitarian t-shirt bra at all. His hands found their way to her waist and then up her sides. His thumbs traced the flesh below the underwire, a ghost-light touch that sent shivers down her spine.

He sat up, as well, and she slid down onto his lap. She could feel he was just as affected as her. Heart racing, she rocked against him, drawing a sharp intake of breath from them both. He put on a smirk, but she thought it looked a bit forced.

“My, my, Detective, are you feeling like yourself?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Wait, how many fingers am I holding up?” His tone was teasing, but she could tell he was only partly joking.

“Stop it,” she said, grabbing hold of the fingers he had up. “Seriously, I’m not ‘impaired’ or whatever. I want this.”

“It’s a little hard to believe, honestly.”

Instead of answering in words, she brought the offending fingers to her lips and kissed each one. She felt a little self-conscious doing it. But the way he was looking at her, he didn’t find it ridiculous at all. Rather, he looked like the fate of his world hung on her.

“Is this what _you_ want?” she asked.

He took so long to answer that she began to worry. But then he said, “yes,” on barely a breath. Then, “Chloe.”

That was all she needed to hear. She pulled the t-shirt the rest of the way over his head. Once he was free, he caught her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. She smiled against his lips at his disappeared reluctance. He coaxed her tongue into his mouth, and she happily obliged, trying to return how he’d made her feel earlier. More, she wanted to make him know—believe—how she felt about him. Still felt about him. As if she could merely with a kiss.

Fingers trailed down her back and, just like that, her bra clasp was released. He broke the kiss and pulled back to rest his hands on each of her shoulders. He let his fingertips trail down her arms dragging the bra straps ahead of them. She found herself holding her breath. It wasn’t a terribly intimate gesture all things considered, but she felt it in her entire body as his fingers ran past her elbows, down her forearms, over her wrists and across the backs of her hands. Felt it to her toes. Felt it in her stiffening nipples. In her opening core. Then, he flung the bra away with a grin.

“Ah, I’ve missed these.”

She snorted. “Does that mean you _don’t_ have Hot Tub High School permanently in your Netflix queue?”

It must have been a trick of the light, because she could have sworn he actually blushed. “It seemed…rude…after a certain point.”

“Ah, that’s…good…” she muttered distractedly as his lips had found one of her nipples.

She brought her hand to the back of his head. Damn, he was good with his mouth.

His hands had slid down her back and were now making their way under the elastic waist of her granny-khakis. She lifted up a little to give him access. He took an asscheek in each hand and pulled her against him. The kitty sweats were doing very little to restrain his erection. His long fingers flexed against her bottom as he rocked her against his length. She reached for the elastic band of his sweats.

“Lucifer…”

She lost the rest of the sentence as his mouth moved to her other nipple and cool air hit the moist skin of the one he had been ravishing. She stroked his hair with a trembling hand and took in the little mewling noises he was now making against her breast.

“Lucifer,” she tried again. “I need…these clothes…off. Now. I need…” He was already moving, gripping her waist, turning her so they were facing each other side-by-side. “…you…”

He’d never mentioned superhuman speed as being amongst his abilities but just like that the last of their clothes were gone. She giggled. _Of course_ getting people naked was one of his superpowers.

He raised his eyebrows, uncertain, smiling tentatively.

She returned the smile as she pulled his face toward hers. “I’m just happy,” she said before she kissed him.

He took the lead then. Little and long caresses along her body that drew her back to the edge just as he drew her to him. He hooked a hand behind her knee and drew her leg up over his hip. It opened her up in a way that made her feel wanton. She felt his fingers trail ever-so-lightly along her sex and took in the sound he made at how wet he found her. A little whine rose up in her throat.

“Lucifer,” she pleaded.

He chuckled in response, but she could tell he was on the edge of control, too. He positioned himself at her entrance and paused with just his tip brushing against her.

Her sex was already slick and open and hungry for him. She could feel it pulling inward in anticipation of having him inside. _Shit_ , she wasn’t going to last.

“Lucifer,” she gasped. “I’m too close.”

“No, you’re not. You’re perfect.” He leaned back a little to run his eyes over her, taking in her flushed cheeks and chest and the rapid rise and fall of her breasts with her breaths. “You’re glorious on the edge of losing control, darling. Please do.”

And he thrust into her.

He’d barely pulled back to push a little deeper when her orgasm crashed over her. She clung to his arms, pushing her breasts against his chest and curling her leg around his hip to pull him as far into her as their position allowed. Lucifer caressed her while making little movements inside her that were somehow exactly what she needed. She thought she heard him murmur, “just like that, darling,” as she clenched around him.

When she came back to herself after the last waves of her climax had subsided, she found him looking at her with dark, dark eyes. He was still seated inside her and still very hard.

She used the leg around his hip and a hand on his shoulder to pull him with her as she rolled onto her back. He caught his weight on his forearms, but he slipped further inside her. He groaned and tensed.

She took in his wild eyes and the barely restrained tension in his frame. He was holding himself back but she could tell he was nearly desperate with need. He seemed almost…frightened…if that was possible. He was a stranger to this kind of emotion during sex, she realized, and her heart ached for him.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, stroking his back. “You can let go, too.” She encouraged him with a gentle rock of her hips.

“Chloe,” he gasped.

He drove into her, deeper with each stroke. Her arousal rose up again as he filled her so totally. He was, as he’d once bragged, quite large. Suppressing another giggle at the memory, she wrapped her legs around his waist to give him a better angle. Her head fell back and she moaned as he took her hard.

His strokes became erratic and his breathing harsh. With a shuddering inhale, he buried his face against her neck and began rutting against her. She continued to caress his back tenderly and she was deluged with affection for him. Her half-broken Devil.

She felt when his release began, and she, overcome with this emotion, was nearly there with him. She reached between them to stroke her clit, and then she was riding her climax right along with him. Saying his name over and over. Drawing him out, even as he slowed, feeling every last twitch inside her.

Until finally he collapsed beside her, pulling her along into his arms.

She’d very nearly fallen asleep when she heard him say, “I’m happy, too.”

* * *

She stood by the window after her shower, dressed in the clothes of a woman several decades her senior. She could hear Lucifer finishing up his own shower now. Outside, the snow barely fell. The late afternoon sun broke through here and there, glistening over the lake. When he joined her, he stood by her side. They both looked out. 

“It’s Christmas Eve,” she said.

“I hope you aren’t expecting a fat man down the chimney,” he commented, glancing at the smoldering fire.

Still, he stepped close, cautiously wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his side, sighing.

They stood like that for a while, and slowly he drew her in from of him. His hands rested along her hip bones, lazily caressing up and down. She could feel him quietly humming to himself as they stood. She found herself relaxing more and more against him. He took her weight as she did so.

One of his hands began to trace forward, more intimately. The other rose across her stomach, splaying in place just below her breasts. Did he know how much he was winding her up, or was it all so much instinct for him? His lower hand drifted yet further inward. Her moan when he was over her mound startled them both. His hand froze, but she took it and moved it against herself. He’d stopped his lazy humming and she could feel his breath, a little ragged, near her ear.

“Chloe,” he said on a breath. “You really want this? I’m not dreaming?”

 _If we’re dreaming, we’re dreaming together_ , she thought. But that would be too ambiguous for him, so she tried again. “No, we’re not dreaming. I want this.” She turned in his arms to face him. “And so do you.” She pressed against him, letting him know she felt his need.

“It’s funny,” he said. “Sex has always been the easiest part for me. But with you…it’s complicated.”

She reached up, putting both her palms against his cheeks, letting her fingers slide into his hair. She caught his eyes and made sure she had his attention.

“It’s because it means something,” she said.

He let out a shuddering breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. “That’s why I don’t want to screw it up.”

She puffed out a little laugh, tightening her grip on his face when it seemed he was ready to pull away offended. It just struck her as absurd that he might be insecure about this of all things.

“That’s why everything doesn’t always have to be perfect,” she corrected. “Not that you aren’t doing a fantastic job of turning me on at the moment.”

“Am I, now?”

She could hear the renewed smile in his voice.

He let his hands drop from her shoulder to her lower back, pulling her close. She found herself mirroring the movement, locking her arms around him. They both groaned as they rocked against one another.

But then his movements stilled, and she looked up at him. He was looking at her with a kind of wonder.

“Your really do want me still,” he said. “You’ve seen all of me, and you do want me.”

She almost made a quip about earlier that afternoon proving _that_ , but this moment so much mirrored theirs on the balcony _before_. His dark eyes had the same open vulnerability. So, she simply said, “I do,” before leaning up to kiss him.

He scooped her up and carried her to the love seat. The unnatural ease with which he did so sent a thrill through her. They made out like teenagers. She kept things light when they might have progressed, feeling that they both needed that. But then her stomach growled loudly, and she buried her head in his shoulder, snickering.

“I’ll…I’ll see what I can make for supper,” he said. But before he got up, he pulled her to him, bringing her to straddle his lap, and kissed her in a way that wasn’t light at all. She was panting hard by the time he let her go to head for the kitchen.

“You ridiculous tease,” she threw at his retreating back.

The grin he threw over his shoulder was pure him.

Then, in a deep rumble: “It’s not a tease if I intend to follow through.”

He made a sort-of goulash out of the pantry contents which they ate with canned green beans and peaches for dessert. He apologized three times as if the lack of gourmet ingredients was his fault. It _was_ a ridiculous meal but she found she couldn’t stop smiling throughout it. After dinner, they finished the puzzle. There were only two pieces missing, both from the transition from snowy mountain peak to sky.

Much later, she lay wrapped in his arms. Sleep was stealing over her, but she made sure to snuggle as closely into his warmth as she could first. The fire had burned low, but neither of them seemed inclined to get up to feed it. They slept under the twinkling of the Christmas lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and Happy New Year!


	3. A Home for the Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Chloe make it "home" for the holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promised Christmas fluff chapter arriving on January 15. Late and I’m glad I have a dentist appointment next week, because I think I might have rotted my own teeth with this amount of fluff! At petrichorishly: Last installment! I wanted to get Dan in here, because I love the Douchifer bromance you have going in your Heaven Talks But Not To Me. I hope I did it justice. Thanks once again to ObliObla for the great beta and holding my hand through some lines I was really angst-ing over.

Christmas day dawned bright and the snow had finally stopped. She lay on her side with a spectacular view out the windows. His arm rested around her waist and he was pressed all along her back side. It was ridiculously cozy. She was happy.

She felt when he first stirred—and that his first instinct was to pull away. She hung on to his arm, and he acquiesced easily enough. She could feel his breath in her hair, not quite casual. She traced nonsense patterns on his hand with her free fingers as she continued to hold onto him. Gradually, he relaxed against her.

“Good morning, Lucifer.”

They lay like that for a little while longer, but eventually he moved to get up.

“What do we want for brekky, hmmm?”

Chloe pretended to consider.

“And, darling, if you don’t say more powdered eggs, we might have a problem.”

“Oh, I know, more powdered eggs!” She grinned.

“Your wish is my command.” He gave her a slight bow.

They ate at the little kitchen table again. Out the window, the sun was sparkling on the snow. It really was a beautiful morning, but…

“Christmas morning. I’ve never missed it with Trixie. I hope my mom is managing to keep things normal-ish.”

He nodded, looking thoughtful. While she didn’t think he understood why it was intrinsically important for her to be with Trixie this morning, she could see he understood it _was_ important to her. That was enough.

“So…I’m thinking I’m nearly healed enough to fly us to Penelope’s cabin. If that’s something you are comfortable with.”

Chloe considered. She’d be comfortable with it no matter what not to miss Christmas. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she really _was_ comfortable with the idea. She trusted him. Full stop.

“What’s it like?”

“It’ll be over before you even know what’s happening. We’ll be here, and then we’ll be there.”

“That sounds…easy.”

“It is, darling. The finest of express travel.” His eyes were twinkling. “No time to serve the champagne, though.”

“So, when do you think…”

“If we can get some space one more time, I think that should do it.”

She volunteered to go again. He still only had his oxfords and the choice of his dress shirt or the corgi tee. He proposed that he pick her up when he was able rather than have her guess how much time was enough. That set Chloe in motion even though a part of her didn’t want to be in a hurry to leave their lake house.

Chloe examined her reflection in the bathroom mirror. On the one hand, she looked ghastly with her tangled hair and the scabbing and bruised gash receding into her hairline. On the other hand, she looked more…relaxed than she’d felt in a long time. Her lips also looked a bit swollen from the kiss Lucifer had started while they were washing dishes. She found herself tracing a finger along her lower lip when she snapped out of her thoughts.

She wet her hands and finger-combed her hair before securing it in a low ponytail. She applied some makeup and a bandaid she found in the medicine cabinet to the bump. She didn’t want her mom or Trixie worrying.

Their clothes were dry by the fire, and they changed into them. She didn’t want it to feel like an ending.

Lucifer seemed determined to distract her from putting her sweater on.

It would've been easy to let him. But Chloe needed to let her mom and Trixie know she was okay, and she needed to be there for Christmas.

They’d have to come back and put the cabin back in order for the winter so the pipes didn’t burst. And clean up properly. And track down the owners. And thank them. And apologize. And resupply the place. Lucifer told her to stop worrying; that he’d take care of it after the holiday. Hire someone to do it, she knew that meant. She couldn’t help writing a note to leave even though she knew there was basically no chance the owners would be back before they could track them down.

Bundled up, she headed down the driveway once again. In the light of the clear sunny day, it was almost hard to imagine how she’d gotten so turned around and scared. It already felt like something that had happened to another person.

She guessed she’d been outside more than half an hour, and she was getting cold despite the sun. She hoped Lucifer knew what he was doing and would be ready to…fly…soon. Yeah, that was weird to think. But somehow, having had those wings under her hands, it all felt so much more concrete.

She snickered to herself imagining Lucifer commenting that that wasn’t all she’d had under her hands.

Then all of a sudden he was beside her where there’d only been empty space. They stood looking at each other.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded. It gave her a strange thrill that he was being so open with the devil-stuff. “Ready when you are.”

She wrapped an arm around his waist when he pulled her into his arms.

“Please think about Penelope’s cabin,” he said.

There was a stirring of air, then a displacement, but before she could process any of the sensations, they were in the driveway of her mother’s cabin.

She plodded toward the door with him following more slowly. She held out her hand. When he took it, she pulled him to her side. She gave him a smile, and he returned it. Tightening her grip on his, she knocked.

The door flew open. Her mom stood in the frame.

“Honey, thank God!”

This time, Chloe went ahead and winced right along with Lucifer. Chloe nodded her chin in his direction.

“Thank the Devil, actually.”

“Oh, did you come to my girl’s rescue? How gallant!”

Penelope reached out and grabbed Lucifer by the arm, pulling him inside. Chloe rolled her eyes. What was she, chopped liver? Then her mom was looking past her at the snowy driveway.

“Where’s your car, dear?”

“Oh…we…got dropped off…by a…good Samaritan.”

Lucifer snorted.

Just then, Trixie ran down the stairs, still in her santa-and-reindeer pajamas.

“Mom! You made it in time! And you brought Lucifer.”

Chloe caught her daughter in a great big hug at the bottom of the stairs.

“Merry Christmas, monkey.”

“I’m so happy you’re here. Grandma said you might have to stay in town for Christmas, and that would have been soooooo lame. But Daddy’s coming after all!”

Her mom threw Chloe a stressed look. Chloe could piece together what happened, and she was grateful her mom had kept her fears from Trixie.

Trixie had transferred her attention to Lucifer. Chloe was, as always, secretly amused by his discomfort. Though, she thought it had become a little more feigned over the course of time. Nonetheless, she rescued him after watching him dance around in her daughter’s embrace for several moments.

“I suppose these trousers were a wreck already,” he sighed.

“Shirt, too, I suppose,” she teased.

She turned her back on his scandalized expression, letting Trixie drag her toward the tree.

“Grandma let me open a couple of the presents from Santa!”

Chloe oohed and aahed in pretend surprise as Trixie showed her her new She-Ra toy set and Exploding Kittens card game.

She kissed her daughter’s head. “Monkey, I need to talk to Grandma for a minute. Why don’t you…tell Lucifer about She-Ra.” Oh, she was being evil this morning.

Her mom was in the kitchen uncorking a bottle of Bordeaux. Her hands were shaking a bit.

Chloe touched her arm in reassurance. “I’m alright. And thank you so much for keeping things normal for Trix.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m just relieved. Besides,” her mom laughed, “can you imagine me and Trixie cooking Christmas dinner by ourselves?”

Chloe shook her head. Her mom was her mom.

“You called Dan…?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure what to do when you didn’t get in and I couldn’t reach you. I’m afraid I completely freaked Dan out. He insisted on coming here right away. And I thought it might be for the best…for Trixie.”

Chloe could very well imagine Dan not trusting her mom in that situation.

“What time is he getting in?”

“Should be here this afternoon presuming the roads are clear enough. He got the first flight he could out of San Jose, after I called him. Two stops and fifteen hours but he should be landing at RNO at 1:30.”

“Oh, no,” Chloe gasped. “He shouldn’t have.” Christmas eve-into-day…that would cost a fortune.

“Apparently,” her mother noted with a sly smile, “he was flying on a fully-refundable first-class ticket.”

Of course. Chloe glanced through the doorway at Lucifer where he sat chatting with Trixie. She found herself smiling fondly at him. When she glanced back, her mom raised an eyebrow.

“Lucifer and Dan have been getting along lately,” she said, deliberately misunderstanding. “Can I borrow your phone? I want to send Dan a message. For when he lands or if he’s using airplane wifi.”

She tapped out a message when her mom handed her her phone, letting him know she was okay. That they’d wait for him for dinner.

When she looked up, she saw her mom pushing a glass of wine into a perfectly-pleased Lucifer’s hands before showing him around the cabin. She joined them after seeing Trixie happily engaged with the action figures.

“Cabin doesn’t exactly do it justice, does it?” she noted, letting her hand rest on Lucifer’s elbow.

“It’s absolutely lovely,” he said. “Penelope was just telling me about the retreats here during the filming of Craters of Zargon. Apparently Christopher Hunt—Zargon himself—used to stay right here! This is practically living movie history, Detective.”

“So I’ve heard,” Chloe deadpanned.

“It is lovely, isn’t it?” her mom agreed. “Still, with Dan coming, too, it’s going to be a tight fit. Lucifer, why don’t you take Chloe’s room. You can stay with Trixie, can’t you, honey? And Dan can take the sleeper sofa?”

Chloe saw that Lucifer was going to protest the arrangement, although she didn’t know in which direction, and cut him off. “Thanks, mom. We’ll all fit.”

Luckily, her mom was on to the next topic. “No luggage?” she asked Lucifer.

“Afraid I left in a bit of a hurry.”

Her mom, having lived the life she had, shrugged completely unfazed. Chloe had to roll her eyes. Lucifer caught her at it and grinned at her.

“It happens,” was all he said.

“Well, you might find something to wear in one of the closets. I’ve had a few longer term guests over the years. None quite as handsome as you, of course.”

“Mom!” Chloe objected.

“What?” her mom protested. “He can take a little flirting. Besides, I can see where his eyes are looking.” Her mom gave her conspiratorial smirk, and Chloe could feel her face turning red.

“I’ll show Lucifer upstairs,” Chloe said, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him up the steps. When they were alone, she added: “Sorry about that.”

“What? Your mother is lovely.” He had a twinkle in his eye, and she wasn’t quite sure if he was joking or serious. “Besides, she gave Daniel the sofa bed.”

“That’s good,” Chloe said, stepping into Lucifer’s space. His hands found her hips immediately. “Because I’m not sleeping in Trixie’s room.”

Lucifer’s smile at that could have lit up the sun.

She grinned back at him then stood up on her toes to give him a peck on the lips.

Pulling away, she went over to her suitcase. “Why don’t you check the closet. I am _so_ looking forward to my own clean clothes.”

She was halfway through changing, just pulling on fresh underwear, when she glanced up and saw he hadn’t moved. He was watching her with a look somewhere between hunger and bewilderment.

“Not now,” she said, brushing past him. “Mom and Trixie are waiting.”

When she went back downstairs, she saw Trixie had her craft caboodle spilled out on the table. She sat down, leaning forward to see what her daughter was working on.

“Grandma and I were making ornaments.”

There were construction-paper trees and snowman decorated with paper cutouts and glitter, yarn looped through holes punched in the tops. She examined each one and couldn’t help notice that one of the snowmen seemed to be wielding two long knives.

“I see, honey. They look great.” Chloe picked up a folded white triangle of paper and began cutting little wedges from it.

“I wanted to show you before we put them on the tree.”

She glanced at the tree with its perfectly uniform blue and white bulbs. These would make it much better, in Chloe’s opinion. She glanced to the top of the fir and was glad to see a silver and glass star and not some kind of cheesy angel topper. She unfolded her snowflake and held it up for Trixie’s inspection.

“That’s beautiful, Mom! Can I do the glitter?”

“Of course, monkey.”

Just then she heard a noise and looked up to see Lucifer at the top of the stairs. The clothes he’d found weren’t absurd, but they were more casual than he usually wore. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t help the smile on her face as he came downstairs.

“Come here,” she called, beckoning him. Trixie set about showing him the projects so far. Lucifer nodded at each one but kept throwing Chloe uncertain glances.

She decided to help him out. “Aren’t they _nice_ , Lucifer?”

“Very…sparkly.”

“Lucifer, you can help hang the ornaments,” Trixie announced. “You can reach the high spots!”

“Indeed, child.” He picked up one of the snowmen and held it up to the tree for Trixie’s approval.

“Higher,” she said, and he obliged.

Lucifer hung the rest of the ornaments, with Trixie’s occasional direction, while Chloe cut snowflakes and Trixie glittered them. Meanwhile, her daughter was catching Lucifer up, in non-linear fashion, on the last six months or so. That tore at Chloe’s heart a bit. But Chloe’s smile crept back at Lucifer’s sometimes-clueless questions and her little monkey’s priceless expressions in response. And if some of the snowflakes came out crooked, well, she was slightly distracted.

They continued until he’d caught up to their little assembly line. Maybe because he wasn’t wearing his own clothes, he didn’t complain all _that_ much about the glitter.

“Trixie, babe,” she said when they were done. “Run upstairs and get dressed. It’s almost noon.”

“But, moooooooom, I always open presents in my PJs.”

“Not this year. We’re waiting for your dad to get here, and that’s way too late. Besides, don’t you want to go out and play in the snow?”

Trixie was halfway to the stairs before she spun back around. “Lucifer, will you help me make a snowman?”

“Sure, honey, he will,” she said, and that sent Trix running.

Lucifer looked at Chloe with mostly-mock outrage.

“You’ll survive it.”

“I…know.” He looked away for a moment before admitting: “I just didn’t expect to be here.” His expression said he almost didn’t believe it still.

She squeezed his hand. “Well, you are. And you’re stuck now that’s for sure. Trixie will have you making snow ang…devils before you know it, and my mom will be half-flirting with you all night. Welcome to Decker Family Christmas.”

Lucifer grinned. “You think that intimidates me?” He tugged her closer.

Just then, her mom poked her head from the kitchen. “Honey, can you get a fire going in the fire place? Wouldn’t that be so cozy? I would’ve but you know I’m not good at that.”

Chloe hid her smile. Her mom couldn’t be worse at starting a fire if she tried. Which she didn’t.

There was plenty of wood stacked by the fireplace—certainly something her mom had paid to have brought in. She knelt by the hearth after opening the damper. Once she’d arranged the wood and kindling how she liked, she reached for the matchbox on the mantle. _Ugh_ , it was extremely damp. She tried lighting several matches, but it was no use.

“Lucifer,” she called.

He crouched down next to her, examining her handiwork.

“Do you have your lighter, by any chance?”

“Back at the penthouse, I’m afraid.”

“What are the odds these are the only matches here?” she asked, handing him the damp box.

“Well…I might have another means of starting a fire.” He was looking at her sideways as if he was trying to gauge her reaction.

“Something…devilish?”

“You know, darling, that’s not what people usually mean when they say that. But yes.”

“Well don’t hold out on me, then.”

He quirked an eyebrow, studying her. When he turned his gaze to the wood stacked on the grate, her eyes followed to the same place. Some of the smallest kindling burst into flame all on its own.

She drew in a sharp breath and her heart stuttered wildly. She was so mesmerized watching the wood burn and catch larger pieces that she barely saw his hand twitch out of the corner of her eye. She realized he was waiting for her reaction.

She knew he’d have seen she was affected, and she wanted to explain it wasn’t anything in the ballpark of fear. But she wasn’t sure how to explain what she didn’t really understand herself. Why seeing him do this sent _that_ particular kind of heat through her. She turned to him and placed her hand on his knee to reassure. When their eyes met, it was like an electric spark passed between them, and it was his turn to gasp.

Her mom’s voice from behind her startled her.

“Sweetie, that’s perfect! You always were good at starting fires.”

“Oh she’s very good at starting fires,” Lucifer agreed without taking his eyes off Chloe.

From the way he was looking at her, she could tell he wasn’t talking about the fire in the fireplace _at all._

* * *

Chloe and Lucifer were outside with Trixie when Dan pulled up in a rented Jeep Wrangler a little before 16:00. They’d mostly finished the snowman. Lucifer and her daughter were just debating the choice of scarf.

As soon as Dan stepped out of the vehicle, Trixie dashed toward him.

“Dad! Merry Christmas! Isn’t this the coolest Christmas ever?”

Dan swept his daughter into his arms even though she was nearly too big for that. “Yeah, it is.” He kissed her forehead.

After he put her down, Dan turned to Chloe and wrapped her in a tight hug. One that, if they weren’t friends, would’ve been awkward from an ex.

“I’m fine,” she reassured him. “Thank you for being here. Roads okay?”

“The main roads were mostly plowed. The last couple miles up here were rough, though.”

Dan caught sight of Lucifer then. He looked surprised but, after a moment, smirked. “I should’ve known you’d be here.” He gave Lucifer a hug that was received only somewhat awkwardly. She heard Dan mutter something low, presumably so Trixie couldn’t hear, but Chloe caught “…she was in trouble, you’d…”

“Well, of course,” Lucifer responded.

Dan clapped him on the shoulder again. “Thanks, man. And Merry Christmas.”

“Let’s not go overboard, Daniel,” Lucifer muttered, but he was smiling.

“Come _on_ ,” Trixie said, grabbing her dad’s hand and pulling him toward the house. “I need to show you the tree and we need to open presents and…”

Lucifer uttered a put upon sigh but gathered Dan’s bags from the jeep and carried them inside.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. Trixie absolutely _could-not-wait-one-more-minute_ to tear into her presents. Dan unpacked several packages wrapped in Tico newspapers, presumably done on the plane. Lucifer was clearly uncomfortable he had nothing to offer, so Chloe took his hand to distract him.

Chloe’s presents for her daughter were mostly from her list with the odd sweater or pajama set thrown in. Her mom gave her tiaras and a makeup set. Dan’s gifts were…more eclectic. Trixie unwrapped a small wooden box painted with colorful frogs, a ‘Pura Vida’ t-shirt, wooden hair combs with painted flowers, a small carved pot with a motif of swinging monkeys, and a leather change purse stamped ’Costa Rica’.

Dan even had presents for the rest of them: a colorful scarf for her mom, a fine cutting board made of precious woods for Chloe, and a bottle of Guaro for Lucifer.

After everything had been opened, Lucifer leaned toward Dan and teased, “Holiday shopping in duty free, were we?”

Dan shrugged. “Hey, man. You do what ya got to do.” To Trixie, he said, “I’ve got a couple more presents back at my place for you to open when we get home.”

“I _know_ , Dad,” she said giving him a hug. And then she stage-whispered: “I saw them wrapped in the closet, like, weeks ago.”

Lucifer cleared his throat. “I too will have a present for you back in L.A., child,” he promised.

 _That_ Chloe was going to make sure to supervise. From the glance she caught from Dan, he was thinking the same thing.

Trixie clapped her hands together in a near-perfect imitation of her father. “Then you’ll have to come over and give it to me.”

Lucifer glanced over at Chloe before answering, “Certainly.”

* * *

After dinner, Trixie broke out the Exploding Kittens. Lucifer got knocked out first following a triple rounding of “nope-ing.” He disappeared into the kitchen with an offer to clean the dishes. Chloe was out shortly after with a bad draw. She excused herself and went to check on Lucifer.

She came up behind him while he dried dishes, resting her hands on his waist. Lucifer’s hum of contentment as he leaned back against her almost felt like a purr.

“Thank you for being patient,” she murmured into his ear.

“Well, _obviously_ there’s no place I’d rather be than losing ridiculous card games to your offspring and _Daniel_.”

But she heard the truth in his sarcasm. “Obviously.”

She smiled, content, as he went back to drying. She let her hands slide into his pockets as she held him closer.

Her fingertips brushed against the edge of something in his righthand pocket. Two small, flat somethings with a familiar shape. She fished them out.

He chuffed a little in recognition of what she’d found but kept moving the towel.

Chloe studied the cardboard puzzle pieces in her palm. Two pieces showing the transition between mountain and sky that fit perfectly together. Lucifer, apparently, wasn’t going to acknowledge her find any further. So, she slipped the pieces back into his pocket and wrapped her arms around him once more.

She leaned her cheek against his back and breathed in his scent. She felt so very in love in that moment. Maybe she was dreaming not to think things were going to come crashing down when they got back to real life. But she was so very hopeful. They were unlikely as partners. Unlikely as friends. And they’d gone through so much to get here.

She felt the muscles of his back flex. She was reminded of the wings she’d ministered to just two nights before. How strange it was she could feel the smooth skin of his back through his shirt but know this was where the first soft feathers of his wings would emerge. And just like that her pulse was racing and her breath coming fast. She felt him go still. Of course he’d noticed her odd reaction.

He turned in her arms with a questioning look on his face. “Everything alright?”

Now was not the time to start something. Everyone else was in the living room. They should be occupied with the game, but all the same she shouldn’t…

She pushed up and met his lips.

She kissed him lazily. His fingers played up and down her hips. When she felt his tongue teasing at her teeth, she invited him in, relishing the slide of it against her own. She made a sound and he pulled her hips tight against him as he explored her mouth.

“Chloe,” he breathed when they finally pulled apart.

A cleared throat startled them both. Dan stood in the doorway.

“Uh, I think we’re going to start a fresh round. Trix knocked me and your mom out in the same turn. So, if you want to, uh.” He headed back into the living room.

“Darling, I hope you weren’t intending to keep me as your dirty little secret.”

Chloe snorted. “Definitely not. Come on, let’s see if we can give Trixie a rematch.”

They played three more rounds. Chloe’s mom, Trixie, and Dan won them respectively. When Trixie was yawning, Chloe announced it was bedtime.

“Say goodnight to everyone, monkey.”

Trixie gave each of them a hug and headed up to get ready for bed. Chloe followed her upstairs a few minutes later. After her daughter was snuggled under the covers, she sat next to the bed stroking her hair. She had come so close to missing this moment, and it hit her all over again. She hoped the dark hid the tears that sprung to her eyes.

“Mommy,” Trixie said sleepily. “This was such a good Christmas.”

“It was, sweetie. It really was.”

“Can we do it again next year?”

“We’ll see.”

“But Dad shouldn’t fly away and then come late.”

“I don’t think he will,” she said, continuing to stroke her hair.

“And Lucifer shouldn’t stay away for so long either.”

“I don’t think he will, either.” She certainly hoped.

“Good.”

Chloe heard her daughter’s breathing evening out toward sleep.

“Merry Christmas, Trix,” she whispered, kissing her forehead.

She heard Dan talking about his trip as she came back downstairs.

“…and so I spent the night in a hammock under the stars.”

She heard Lucifer’s deeper rumble in response. “That sounds…absolutely dreadful, Daniel. Especially when you were staying in a perfectly serviceable villa. Really, are you sure one of those monkeys you were talking about didn’t drop a coconut on your head?”

Chloe was just in time to see a grinning Lucifer dodging a throw pillow tossed at his head.

“Now, now, Daniel, don’t get angry at me over your poor slumber and recreation choices. I provided a number of excellent recommendations.”

“Sure, man, because they were _totally_ practical.”

Chloe slipped onto the couch next to Lucifer, leaning into his side after he wrapped his arm around her.

“Besides,” Dan continued, “the spider monkeys were rad. And the surfing was beyond awesome. Epic, dude.”

Chloe’s mom returned with a fresh round of red wine.

“I want to propose a toast,” she began after handing out the glasses. “To an unexpected holiday. To time spent with friends and family. And to new beginnings.” She gave Chloe and Lucifer a pointed look. “ _Handsome_ new beginnings…”

Chloe restrained herself from rolling her eyes over her mom’s antics. “To continuing stories,” Chloe interrupted, raising her glass for the toast.

Her mom definitely didn’t have to look quite so pleased-as-punch. Nor, really, did her ex. Or Lucifer. Shit, she had a stupid smile on her own face.

As they sat drinking their wine, her mom slipped into stories of cabin-Christmas’s past.

“Sorry,” Dan said catching himself on his third yawn. “I didn’t exactly catch that much sleep on the plane, and I understand this is my bed.” He nodded his chin at the couch.

“Right, then, we’ll give you your privacy, Daniel,” Lucifer said jumping up. “I know, all this talk of monkeys, and no alone-time to spank one. Tsk-tsk.”

“Hey!” Dan yelled at Lucifer’s retreating back, but Chloe saw the bemused smile he couldn’t quite hide.

Chloe went to take the empty wine glasses to the kitchen before following Lucifer upstairs. On her way back, she stopped to help Dan pull out the sofa bed.

“Sooooo…you two, huh?”

Chloe eyed her ex-husband. “Yeah. Us two.”

“I’m happy for you, Chlo. Really.”

Chloe felt that stupid smile coming back again.

But then Dan ruined it.

“Just, uh, please make sure you’re being, uh, safe.”

Did her ex-husband actually just…she might’ve been offended if she didn’t know he had a little mother-hen in him. She _supposed_ she could tell him that she believed the Devil when he said he didn’t get sick. Instead, she just shrugged. “We’re good. Plus,” she added, giving in to the little TMI devil on her shoulder, “I still have my IUD.”

Dan’s ears went red. “Um, good. Yeah. I’ll just…” He gestured with both of his thumbs in the direction of the sleeper sofa. “Right. Have a good night.” He turned even redder. “I mean, ’night.”

“Merry Christmas, Dan.” She leaned in and gave him a quick hug to let him know everything was okay before heading upstairs.

She found Lucifer lounging on the bed giving her a put-on come-hither look. It reminded her a bit of the ridiculous wallpaper he’d once put on her work computer, and he was wearing about as much. Somehow she found it a whole lot more appealing just now.

She locked the bedroom door.

“How’s your wing?”

“Good as new.”

“Let me see?” She took a step closer to him.

He gave her a sideways look. “I wouldn’t have been able to fly us here if it wasn’t better.”

“Still, I want to check…”

“Do you just want to see them?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you developing a bit of a wing kink, darling?”

She shrugged. “It’s also kinda drafty up here and they’re pretty warm.”

He snorted.

Chloe pursed her lips and flipped off the light. As she made her way over to the bed, she pulled her sweater over her head and shimmied out of her jeans. Lucifer sat up as he watched her in the moonlight streaming through the window. Just as she reached the edge of the bed, he grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her in the air before tossing her onto the sheets. She stifled her giggles as he landed above her. He rolled his shoulders and just like that his white wings spread behind him. Chloe grinned. But before she could say anything or even really take them in, he leaned down and caught her lips in a searing kiss.

And whether the room was drafty or not, it certainly wasn’t that night.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed. Please feel free to leave me a comment or find me over on Tumblr.


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